


Don't Stop The Beat

by hid4n



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Open to Interpretation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hid4n/pseuds/hid4n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virus and Trip have a ritual they wordlessly follow each and every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stop The Beat

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short fanfiction regarding my headcanon that Virus and Trip would come home from a rough day at work, every night, and listen to electronica (genre they both like) and relax with drinks.
> 
> This is my first DMMd fic, and my first upload to AO3 so please overlook mistakes or anything of the like.

The dull lights flickered on quietly with the single coaxing of his finger, the switch having been flipped to the "ON" side. One bulb in the corner of the room seemed to resist at first, but eventually shuddered to life, it's light just as bright as the others that surrounded it. Half-lidded eyes peered in the single, hesitant bulb's direction, but the attention was soon redirected according to the quiet voice that set nerves in a frantic dance.

"Mm?" The taller male responded, not having caught everything that passed his counterpart's lips. His hair was, for lack of a better word, a mess. He hadn't cared to fix it up in a back bathroom when a particularly rowdy customer had disagreed with his opinion on the matter they were discussing. There was a dull throb within the junction of his left shoulder and neck, above his collarbone, but he was more than capable of toughing it out. It was just another day at work, as far as he was concerned.

"Never mind," murmured the other male, wandering past the sofa and into the depths of the living room. Trip sniffed dejectedly, although his face was as passive as ever, and turned away from the other. He took a weary step towards the next room, fingers reaching out to brush the frame of the doorway. Pain... It was a dull ache – nothing unbearable – but it was ever-present. His muscles were screaming at him to settle down for the night, to allow them to rest, but he inwardly shook his head. Not yet. He had some stuff he needed to do before he wished Welter a good night and slipped underneath the cotton blankets laid on his expansive bed.

Allowing his mind to wander from the staggered breath that had left Virus moments ago, Trip stepped into the kitchen. He quickly fetched a tea kettle, plucking it from its place on a high shelf. Preparing it with skilled precision, he set it on the stove, switching the burner on. Once he was sure that he had everything set up fine – one time, he had thought he turned the burner on and had wasted far too much time waiting for his tea when it wasn't even started – he shifted to the other side of the kitchen. Trip was swift to peel away the plastic of a container, licking his lips with a tiny twinkle in his eyes. That was all the emotion he felt though, when he picked up a nearby knife, longer than the length of his fingers, and slid it into the mass before him. There was one final shudder before he exhaled in a dismissive manner, setting the knife back down.

With a plateful cake – multiple slices with white and pink frosting – Trip turned around, blue eyes landing on the tea kettle that was just about to start its bloodcurdling screech. He set the plate down gently and went over to the kettle. Lithe fingers grasped at the handle and switched the burner off. He watched with fascination as the flames were cut of their fuel and seemed to sink back into the mechanism built into the stove. Sometimes he felt like a pyromaniac... but he knew he didn't have time for such childish things. Letting his tongue dart out once more to wet his lips, Trip carefully poured two cups of tea. Once he was finished, he set the kettle back on the stove top and took half a step backwards. Slitted eyes stared at his predicament. Two cups, one plate... with only two hands.

Trip had never been a 'take two trips' kind of man. One trip or no trips, that was how he did things. So this was indeed an issue for him. He tried his best to calculate the most accurate and beneficial way to go about this, but he knew that he was no Virus – his results would probably be poor no matter how he looked at it. With a stifled sigh, Trip stepped forward, picking up the plateful of sweets first. The most important thing deserved the best position in his arms, after all. Next came one of the tea cups. Trip looked at his arms and furrowed his brow. Maybe if he just...

Shit. Trip growled as the cup slid along the plate and its side pressed into the icing of a cake slice. At first, it was a tragedy, but eventually the man got over it. That cup would just be his. He could easily lick the frosting off when he sat down. This way, he had a free hand to carry Virus's cup. With a short nod to himself, as if to punctuate his new plans, Trip picked up the other tea cup, holding it easily in his free hand. He shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, just to make sure that his cup wouldn't move too much and spill tea onto his delicious cake, and turned to face the doorway of the kitchen.

Trip was careful while he carried the plate and two cups. He had made the mistake of making a mess just once before, and Virus had not been a happy man when he heard the shattering of porcelain against the linoleum kitchen floor. That had, unfortunately, been after an especially stressful day for the older of the two, and Virus had made his displeasure clear to Trip. Ever since then, the bottle-blond had been diligent enough to tread carefully when he was preparing for their ritual. They both needed it after work – it had become something Trip looked forward to when something went wrong at work. He liked to believe that Virus secretly was anxious for it throughout the day as well, but he could never be sure. Virus was often very secretive about how he truly felt about things like this.

Crossing the threshold quietly, Trip slowly made his way into the living room. His hip arched away from the edge of the sofa as blue eyes fluttered downward to make sure there was nothing littering the floor that might trip him up and cause him to fall after having come so far, but it seemed his path was completely clear. Breathing out silently, Trip looked back up and saw Virus sitting stiffly on the other sofa. His body was visibly more relaxed than it had been minutes ago, but still held a tense edge to it that pained Trip to see. He always wanted to take care of Virus, so whenever he noticed the older male working himself too hard, Trip grew anxious and tried his best to stay out of his way while still being available if his assistance was needed.

Virus always preferred wine, but Trip wasn't as fond of the warming alcoholic drink, and didn't prepare it for them after work unless he felt it was completely necessary. Tonight was not one of those nights, surprisingly. The alcohol was a tool for Trip to help relax a tense Virus, but the bottle-blond had grown to recognize what moods were able to be relaxed naturally and which ones required a bit more of help. Shuffling over to Virus's side, Trip watched him carefully as his chest rose and fell slowly, beginning to gain a steady rhythm. Virus's eyes slowly opened and looked up at Trip, flickering from his face to the plate that he held in his hand. There was a flash of understanding in his face before it was replaced with annoyance.

"Can you go one night without stuffing your face with sweets? You'll ruin your teeth in no time..." Virus scolded, but it was completely half-hearted. After his initial words, his tone dropped off and he sighed quietly, his right fist falling from his cheek where it had been resting and plopping into his lap. "Whatever. It's your teeth, I guess." Trip was silent through the entire abuse, his eyes bland as he waited for Virus to finish his reprimand. Eventually, the older man looked up to Trip again. His eyes flickered to the cushion beside him as if to say 'come on then, sit down'. Trip resisted the urge to grin in Virus's direction as he skirted around the coffee table, setting his items down, and sank into the furniture beside his counterpart.

There was a short silence between the two before Virus broke it, his tone quiet. "The usual?" He didn't bother turning to Trip – he knew that the younger of the two had his altered eyes glued to him the moment he parted his lips to speak. Trip didn't answer verbally, opting to nod his head stiffly before allowing his body to relax a bit more in the plush of the sofa. Lithe fingers reached out to the coffee table, and with Trip watching intently, Virus switched the audio system on. There was a quiet tick before a soft sound began to flow from the various speakers placed strategically around the living room. Soon the beat sped up and was a thumping rhythm that reverberated against the walls of the house and made even the furniture come to life with tiny vibrations.

There was a low sigh that came from both Trip and Virus. The melody – or lack thereof – of the electronic music caused them to sink into the cushions of the couch and their muscles to relax. They listened to what felt like an entire song but was only a fraction of it before Virus leaned forward, fingers stretching for a cup of tea. His blue eyes fell upon the tea cup smeared with cake frosting. His brow lowered and the corner of his mouth that Trip could see twitched downward before Virus redirected his attention and grasped at the handle of the other cup. The bottle-blond was glad when Virus decided that it wasn't worth another scolding – Trip knew he had to take the one that was soiled; of course he knew that. It was no punishment for him. He had been intending to eat all of the icing anyways.

Virus elegantly held the tea cup near his face before lifting it to his thin lips, tilting it ever so slightly to allow the translucent liquid to mingle against his skin. It must have been warm still, but not scalding, as Virus didn't flinch in pain but rather, seemed to enjoy the warmth of the drink. Trip watched him in a nonchalant manner – something that took Virus a very long time to get used to. Any regular person would be unnerved by Trip's constant watch... but then again, any regular person didn't need to deal with it. The attention was unique to Virus. He was the light at the end of the tunnel, the pure white in a world of darkness for Trip. That was why he watched Virus so carefully.

"Are you going to drink your tea? It's going to get cold," Virus murmured past the lip of his own cup. It was more of a command in Trip's head, and he slowly shifted away from the back cushions of the sofa and reached for his own porcelain cup. It came away from the icing of one of the cakes with a bit of pulling. Trip smirked at the frosting, bringing it to his lips where he sucked at the side of the demitasse eagerly. The frosting tasted even better when it was half-melted from the heat of the tea in the cup. Quickly licking up the last of the frosting, Trip sipped at the drink contents, feeling the warmth of it swirl pleasantly in his stomach. He could already feel his nerves settling down, his muscles unwinding for the night.

There was a drawn out silence between the two men as the track ended and another began. They both continued to sip quietly at their drinks with half-lidded eyes and tired minds. Trip was much slower at drinking than Virus, be it tea or alcohol, and hardly had a dent in his cup when Virus leaned forward to set his nearly-finished cup of tea down. He hesitated while still leaned forward, as if he sensed something. Trip felt eyes on him and turned to meet Virus's eyes.

"Virus?" Trip murmured quietly, his expression composed and his eyes calm behind slightly lowered lids. As if he had been expecting it, Virus lowered his head slowly and lifted it back again, narrowing his eyes just a hint. Trip was quiet for a moment, eyes suddenly flickering like a trapped animal searching for an escape. "I love you." The words weren't drawn out or quickened by any means, but Trip's tone was low. He spoke matter-of-factly, like this was something that he had thought long and hard about before finally just coming to the conclusion. His cheeks heated ever so slightly, although there was probably no evidence of a blush dusting his face. Slowly, his eyes returned to Virus's face where they settled until the older male let a smirk grow on his pale lips.

"... Yeah. Eat your sweets so we can go to bed."


End file.
